This Story Has Been Told Before, But Not Like This
by Kiariad
Summary: I hate that phrase – it’s so outrageously corny. In love. How can you be in love? It’s not like a swimming pool – and you certainly don’t choose to be in or out of it. It’s not a door , you can’t walk through it. It’s an abstract noun, for christ's sake!
1. This is Remus

**PLEASE NOTE. THIS STORY IS BEING RE-EDITED.**

**Title: **This Story Has Been Told Before But Not Like This**  
Rating: **T**  
Pairings:** [Main] Remus/Sirius, [side] James/Lily**  
Warnings: **Swearing, possibly a little light making out - I haven't decided yet.**  
Summary: **I hate that phrase – it's so outrageously corny. In love. How can you be in love? It's not like a swimming pool – and you certainly don't choose to be in or out of it. It's not a door , you can't walk through it. It's an abstract noun, for christ's sake!

**A/N: PLEASE DO READ THIS, IT'S RATHER IMPORTANT. **This story was first published way back in '09. Since then I've had a bit of a rollercoaster ride with my health, and because of that I really fell out of writing. I'm now back, and ready to re-familiarise myself with this story and finish it all up. First, however, I'm going to clean it up. Mostly (and unusually) I still really like a lot of this. Normally I hate old writing, and if I re-edit things go the whole hog and practically write it from scratch. This time, however, I'm just going to clean up some shoddy sentencing here or there, catch as many typos as I can, generally smooth things out (there are a lot of 'I's swinging around D:) and (most importantly) try and get rid of phrases and words that (when I first wrote this) I wasn't aware of being inappropriate (particularly with regards to ableist language). This is to do with the fact that when I first wrote this story, I was unaware of my own privilage with regards to being temporarily able (especially with regards to mental health).

So, before I put up the final chapter, I'm just going to whiz through the ones that are already up. I won't be taking any of them down in the mean time, so unless they have it noted that it's been re-done, it will be the original story. If this is your first time reading, feel free to read as far as you like! If you have this on story alert and have kindly come back, thank you so much! I'd advise re-reading, as it's been a while, but it's up to you if you just want to wait for the last update. The plot won't be changing very much, though there may be some minor tweaks (I will try and remember to point these out).

This _should_ be fairly quick, but I make no promises. I'm still in a lot of pain, and doing a fair bit of physio/osteopathy which I find _very_ tiring. That said, writing _does_ appear to be a bit of a pick-me-up, if difficult. Reviews are _incredible_, so please do leave one if you have time :)

**This is Remus; He is in Love**

I hate that phrase – it's so outrageously corny. _In love_. How can you be in love? It's not like a swimming pool – and you certainly don't choose to be in or out of it. It's not a bloody door, you can't walk through it. It's an _abstract noun_, for Christ's sake.

I certainly didn't wander along and go 'oh – look a great big barrel of love, I'll go be in it, shall I?' What twit came up with that? And if it was Sirius, then I'll have to kill him. Mind you, I think the term 'in love' has been around even longer than Sirius – though I suppose I could just kill him anyway. I wonder if anyone would miss him? I know I certainly wouldn't miss him. Except I would, which is the whole Merlin-damned point.

The point is that it's a moronic saying, and I hate it.

I also rather hate Sirius at the moment - more than usual, I mean. Would you like to know why? Either way, I'm going to tell you. That bastard - _that bastard - _smiled at me. He _smiled_. And _poof_ went my resolve and my self-restraint – they waved buh-bye and fucked off somewhere nice, leaving me on my lonesome while my heart did that stupid little flippy thingy that you should _only ever get in trashy romance novels. _So thanks, Padfoot, thanks very much. You've ruined my day.

It had been_ such a good day_, too. My breakfast was good, double DADA was good and break was truly excellent. And then _he smiled_ and BANG. Fuck my life. The first person who says I'm 'in love' gets killed in inventive and excruciating ways.

Sirius, you are _so _dead.

XxXxX

That was three months ago, and my life is no better.

In other news, I have never truly appreciated what a boon homework is. Oh, I've done it, and often I've enjoyed it. But I've never recognised its' potential until now. Potential, I hear you ask? Why, I have not had to glance at Sirius once in the last hour. Well, okay, not more than say... fifteen times? Bless you McGonagall, bless you. I truly apologise for that thing in the Transfiguration classroom that hasn't actually happened yet.

This does not mean, however, I haven't noticed him staring me. It's rather turning me on, which has lead to a neatly arranged book in my lap. Imbecile has no idea of the havoc he causes.

"Padfoot. Staring. Stop it." I wouldn't say I'm being terse, per se. Just a little blunt.

"Uh – Moony, did I do something?" His voice is all husky, and a traitorous shiver just made its' way down my back. Bastard. And traitorous, traitorous, traitorous spine, stop doing that!

"No." Well, he did. But he doesn't know that, and I can hardly tell him because then our entire friendship would be all mucked up. And I must. Not. Look. Because he'll be so concerned and I'll be all 'oh, okay, I forgive you because you're Sirius – never mind.' But no, this time I _must_ hang on, and not let him worm his way back into my affections, like he has every other time he did something stupid.

"Your words say no but your voice says yes~" sang Sirius, as he shifted closer and dropped his head onto my shoulder. "Can't you tell me what? So I can fix it?"

Look, I know it's irrational. It's not _actually_ Sirius' fault, beyond the fact that he's an amazing person with a wicked sense of humour (sometimes too much so) and God given good looks (et cetera, et cetera). And I know that actually, right now, I'm being immature and taking it out on one of my best friends. And that's not okay - but then, neither am I.

And I can hear the hope in his voice, damn it! He's teasing me, sure, but he _wants_ to make this better. He wants to help. The anger is sliding away to leave guilt and more than a touch of shame...

"No." And with a snap of my book, and my bag thrown artfully, yet conveniently, in front of my person, I shoot off towards our dorm and a long – cold – shower.

XxXxX

I _didn't_ try and drown myself in the shower. And I didn't cry, either, which I feel is rather a _coup pour moi_. Might have shaken a bit, but it's not like anybody was there to witness it.

Admittedly, it wasn't the quickest shower in the world (the plumbing is ancient, all right, and I slightly lost my shampoo), but I was still on my own when I finally emerged. In fact, I was able to get (mostly) dressed before the door banged open.

Now, I'll give you a clue as to who just exploded into the boys dormitory as if she had a right to be here (not one I'm going to question, certainly). She's fairly tall, very pretty, quite scary, and she has red hair. That's right! The one and only Lily Evans. Sitting on my bed. I knew her dating James would be a bad idea (not really, but 'blame James' only comes second to 'blame Sirius').

I don't want to think about (all) the (eight) awkward conversations Lily and I've had so far. Mostly about sticking up for myself.

Interestingly enough, Sirius has become something of a running theme. Who wants to bet he's going to rear his pretty head again?

* * *

**A/N:** Quick note: in this chapter, Remus refers to both Merlin and the Christian God (I know it wasn't specified and when someone just refers to 'God' in general you can be referring to any almighty deity from several religions, but this was the Christian God). This is because - as I have it - Remus is half-blooded. In my mind, Remus's mother is the muggle, and his father the wizard (also in my head, his mother is Irish, don't ask me why~). This means he was raised with references to both, and so continues to reference both.

Also, **please review!** When I first started this, I had fifteen-review-for-an-update rule, and I'm thinking of employing it again. That said, I will update as quick as I can, but reminders and little bouts of sunshine in review form are so so so welcome!


	2. This is Lily

**PLEASE NOTE, THIS STORY IS BEING RE-EDITED  
**

**A/N:** So, this took way longer than I was hoping it would. I blame my natural disorganisation and internets issues. That's basically it. Don't like this as much as the first, but wevs.

**This is the Lily; She's Too Smart for Remus' Liking**

"Lily. Hi." I like her, I really do, but right now any conversations that revolve around a certain _tall, dark and handsome_ may trigger a subconscious need to shoot myself – or her. And then James might be a little cross, and then he might just kill me a little – or a lot.

"You're running away." She has a nice voice, Lily Evans, it's soft and melodic – like a lullaby for young children to send them to sleep. But the nicest voice in the world couldn't make me talk about what she wants to talk about.

"No. I was having a shower. It's hygienic, not something most teenage boys engage in, I know, but I am the exception." My voice was sing-song and light, but it was completely at odds with the plummeting sensation in and around my stomach, like the proverbial lead balloon. I may have said that the nicest voice could not make me talk, but Lily Evans is a force of nature. A very unstoppable one. This is going to end badly.

"Remus, honey, the problem with running away – and you are, no don't you make those eyes at me-" Eyes? What eyes? I made eyes? _Oh_, _those_ eyes. Ah. Carry on Lily, please, "-is that emotions are inside of you, and you can't run from them." She gave a small, sad smile, a tiny lift of the corners of her lips while her eyes ached so badly it made my heart hurt even more, "I should know. Don't get me wrong-" her voice sped up, then slowed again, "I love James, so much it hurts, but it was the hardest thing to admit, and even harder to accept- no, don't look at me like that, admitting is different from accepting, and much, _much_ harder." She took my hand and gave it a squeeze. Comfort that I don't really want but probably need right, not that I'm admitting anything. "I'm going back downstairs now, and I think you need to have a bit of a think." She flowed upwards and gave me brief kiss on the cheek. "You'll be fine, I promise." Her lip-gloss stuck to my cheek (and since when did Lily Evans invest in lip-gloss?), but the effort is appreciated, even if it was a little sticky.

Even though I was still a little damp, I wriggled unceremoniously under the covers, bumping my head on the way. While the bones in my forehead (_bone_ singular, technically, since the cranium is on fused mass of bone-tissue) throbbed and pounded, I focused on Lily, as it was (slightly, maybe, a little bit) less painful than my head.

I know why James loves her, not only is she intelligent, independent and beautiful, but she's kind. And, if I weren't _very_ firmly gay, and I weren't afraid of what James might do to me, I might have fallen for her myself.

You know the people that get poems and odes written to them? Lily's one of them. Too beautiful by half.

She's fine-boned, like a grey-hound; all delicate elegance. Poor Lily doesn't tan, she freckles, luckily it's been so long since there's been any sun (oh look, _more_ grey clouds) that she's only got a dusting over her nose and cheekbones (which you may mention at your _peril_). Catlike jade eyes are set off by that infamous hair, like spun copper and gold and fire, like silk. All those metaphors and similes that get worked to death? They could have been written for Lily Evans.

I could hold her in my minds eye and just wonder what it would be like if my life were as simple as a crush on one of my best friend's girlfriend. But then the hair gets shorter and darker, and the freckles fade away, and the eyes go grey- and yeah. It's Sirius. Blast him to sparkly smithereens.

It's like some evil elf with sadistic leanings has taken a pickaxe to my chest, targeting a certain group of muscles and tendons nestled between my lungs. Bastard non-existent mythological creature with painful hardware. And bastard best friend who's too bloody handsome for his own good. Damn them to hell. _Bastards_.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh. I don't mean that. I'd be lost without him and James and Lily, and I love them for it in their own way.

Except I should not have said that. Because I don't love Sirius. Not properly, not like that, not yet. But I'd be lost without him. Totally and utterly. Jesus. Even thinking about it hurts. The elf is back with a vengeance. The idea of Sirius being gone makes me feel like I'm beings squeezed all over, my nails, my teeth, my eyes, my torso. Everywhere.

Like, if someone were to take him away than my world would collapse, gravity would give up and just. Crush me. I don't think I can escape this.

Which is beyond mere _bad. _

It's not even because we're both boys – I can list at least ten same-sex couples in Hogwarts _right now_ (not counting the single people) – and it's not because Sirius is an all-girls man. Sure, he might not _publicise_ the fraternisation with members of our sex as much, but they happen.

So, it's not because of anything like that.

It's because he's my best friend. It's because we've been best friends for six years, give or take a few months. It's because there is no way in heaven or hell I can risk losing him. Ever.

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**A/N: **Review! Please!


	3. This is James

**A/N: **I honestly can't think of anything to say, only to thank eveyone who's reviewed/favourited/alerted/generally been nice about this. Euhm, now I erally have nothing left to say. Enjoy!

**This is James; He is Very Intelligent for a Moron**

I was still twisted in a cocoon of blankets, nestled in my own warmth right down to my toes and breathing in the lavender sachets the house elves like to tuck wherever they can. I would've pulled the pillow over my head, but I couldn't be bothered to free my arms, and as it's toasty as marshmallows over a fire in here – without the eating, unless James is _really_ hungry.

I watched the sky darken through my window, and listen to the hum of chatter that floated up the stairs and through the crack in the door. At one point Peter poked his head through the door, but as soon as he saw me, he withdrew his head so fast he caught his jaw on the frame. I heard him swearing and stumbling down the stairs, but I couldn't bring myself to care. Never mind that he's been the source of headaches and heartaches for the past six months, the room is full of warm reds and golds, and it seems so friendly in the half-light.

When the sun was fully out of sight and the stars had started to smile in the night's sky the door slid smoothly open, and James skipped in, grinning like Mad Loony McLoon on loon tablets. He was also soaked to the skin, and given that he seemed to be wearing about four layers, I'm actually slightly impressed. I don't want to know how he did it, but I'm impressed.

Hi grin widened when he saw me and I jerked my head in response, but we didn't bother to speak. When you've spent nigh on seven years with the same three people, you pretty much run out of things to say. To be honest, they ran out years ago, but that doesn't stop me trying to widen their horizons. Dimwits. They mean the world to me, but genii they are _not_.

It was only when he collapsed onto bed (sending his cat flying in a flurry of fur and fury) that he spoke. Actually he sighed, and gibbered something along the lines of 'mumblemumbleLilymumblelovemumblemumblesighmumble' which means nothing to me, so I just sighed, and then winced at how loud it seemed. Silence had suddenly filled room like the tides rushing in: swift and powerful.

"What's wrong?" James blinked lazily and his head flopped against the pillow, as he lay spread-eagled on the duvet. The fact his voice is so deep and unnaturally loud in the silence means it bounces off the walls and then he's just louder still. We should rename him Foghorn or something.

"Nothing."

"Oh. Okay then. Did you do the DADA homework?" Who does he think he's talking to? When have I ever not done my homework? And surely he didn't swallow that.

"James. You know that conversation we had about people saying nothing when actually they mean everything?"

"Uh, yes?" I groaned and wiggled down into my nest of blankets and duvet. I don't want to deal with this, I want tranquilisers, lots of them. Like, now. I can't believe I just put _like_ into that sentence. Maybe I should just AK myself and have done with it, I deserve it after that. _Like_ – honestly.

"Seriously Moon, what's up? You're like, really down." I winced. Remind me to teach him English (again) at some point. It's not that he isn't intelligent, but he won't _use it_. Or maybe he is just dim. I hope not: I can't take his NEWTs for him, whatever he may think. "Are you homework deprived or something?" Now he's just winding me up. So I wiggle one arm free (it looks like a caterpillar!) and lob a pillow at him. "Oof!"

Clutching himself and moaning, he throws himself off the bed and continues to groan like he's been stabbed. Far too melodramatic for a seventeen year old; what Lily sees in him, I'll never know. He needs day-care, not dates.

"James, please – I beg of you – just shut up. You are doing yourself no favours." There was a shuffling sound and cloth scraping softly across the carpet as the idiot on the floor righted himself, looking as co-ordinated as a budgie with six foot wings. Absently, he ruffled his hair and, as the light danced in his glasses, he spoke.

"Seriously though," I winced at his word choice, (thank God Pads isn't here), "something _is_ up, I swear. Just _tell_ me." I rubbed the crease between my eyebrows, and then I sat up

"James. You know how you feel about Lily? Right? Well, imagine feeling that for someone you can't risk losing. Imagine having to bottle that up, and never let it out. _Ever._ That's how I feel."

"Who is he?" There's something heart-warming in how simply he said that, and accepted it. I like that. "I mean, I assume he's from your village, right?" Ah. Perhaps not.

"This is one of things that you don't want to know."

**A/N: **Right I hope you liked it! I'm still employing the ten reviews=new chapter, but I would just like to warn you that I now have two lots of coursework to be doing. I've had them for a while, but I keep getting... distracted. Anyway, it _shouldn't _have any affect on the updates, but it _might_. Just in case, I'm letting you know.

For the reviews, thank you to: Saki-hana, Missus Potter (again), epholge (again), bookworm1805, Guro (again), Hatsuka, Miss Heather (again), safarigirl83, CanadianCookie (again), Mountain Mist (again) and LoverFaery (again).

Also, to whoever it was that told me that I could just PM/review reply the three people I left messages to, yes,I_ know _that, but there was no guarantee that I'd remember - I have an appalling short term memory. And hey - it worked!

Reviews equal cookies and happy writers!!


	4. This is Sirius

**A/N:** I know this is kinda over-due, and for that I'm sorry, but it's insane my end, which I may have mentioned to some of you, in more detail, and I've also been out the house a bit recently (for the first time in four weeks!!! YES!!!!), not to mentioned crushed to death by mountains of work. X_X

My excuses are made, and I hope you enjoy the story. (I don't like this one, I have issues with Sirius, I can't write him as well...)

**This is Sirius; He is a Heart-Breaker**

In a weird way, I'm quite proud of James: he let it go without me having to inflict bodily harm. A first, for him. Maybe I should get him a gold star, or something. Maybe I should stop being sarcastic and _do _something.

I'll stay here.

xXxXx

"Moony? Moon? _Moooo-neeee?_" There's a hand shaking my shoulder through the blankets, and a voice that turns my insides to soup. I don't want to face this now. I really really don't. The hand that had been on my shoulder, wanders up to the top of the blankets – which are currently hiding my head – sending my pulse through the roof. I want to gasp so bad, but I _can't_. The hand peels back the covers _oh so slowly_, like drawing down the blinds. "Come on Moony-bear, I know you're in there!" I'd forgive him for anything – _anything_ – but why must he use pet-names??

_**ARGH!! Oh sweet Merlin's balls!!**_ Ice. _Cold. Water!!_ I feel like- actually, I feel like I've had a bucket of water thrown over me. Foetal position. Now. Blankets, _blankets, __**blankets!!**_ Why God, why?

"S-sirius? I'm going t-to kuh-kill you!!" And the ironic thing? I still want him, after he's put me through _this_.

"Pfft-" his bed squeaks as he falls back on it, "I _need_ you. You wouldn't wake up, so I _woke_ you up. Duh." I wish wish wish he wouldn't say things like that, I'm shaking already. He _needs_ me. Of **all** the word choices. Still, I does bring some rather lovely images to mind-

"Pay attention Moony-bear, I'm important!"

If only you knew.

"And _so_ humble, _Ghandi_ could learn a thing or two."

"Who the fuck is Ghandi? And yes, I do try."

"You are _very_ trying Sirius. Now out with it, before I tell Professor Stanthorpe who it really was that broke her precious Ming vase."

"Minging, more like. Anyway- don't be mean! The bitch was asking for it, and it wasn't deliberate! I'm an innocent party! Besides, you totally want to hear what I have to tell you."

"I'm sure I don't, but do go on." I sound so tired. Like the weight of ages are heavy on my shoulders. Or more. It's just that lovely.

"Okay, so there was this _uber_sexy girl in the Ravenclaw common room…" you know, I would actually feel better if he was talking about a boy, at least he'd be the right gender, "…thought I'd never seen her before – I'd know those tits anywhere! Anyway…" _so_ crude Sirius, when you want to, you can spin such wonderful words, why must you let yourself down so? "…and it turns out it was Melinda Hawkley! Imagine that! You know- the geeky looking one in the glasses. Always sits at the back in charms. Her friend had grabbed her, stuck her in a bra and a short skirt and _wham!_ Sex on legs, I tell you…" Too much talking, Sirius. You are hiding something, I know you too well. Something is making that brain strive to talk and wave and make melodrama so as to block anything that might hurt. What is it, Padfoot? Who hurt you? My heart aches for you if something has upset you this much (mind you everything aches around you, it's a re-occuring feature). To talk so fast, your heart must be pounding. You don't mean what you're saying. Melinda Hawkley doesn't wear glasses, and she certainly isn't in Charms – she's my astronomy partner you fool. "...and then _I_ said-"

"Sirius. Neither you nor I is remotely interested in what you are saying, so why don't you spare us both, hmm?"

"I- fine. Sure. Whatever." I sigh, and begin to extricate myself from my blankets. Gah, so cold! Like the air bites with thousands of tiny teeth. _Why_ did you have to soak me Sirius? There are _so_ many more ways that you could have woken me up. I snatch a jumper from the floor where I left it. I'm going to have to tidy when all this is over; it looks like a tornado has gone through. The bed squeaks again as I sit down on it and hoist my legs up onto the covers.

"You can tell me, you know, you can always tell me." I speak softly, gently; I don't want to scare him away. He acts so tough, like everything just bounces off him. Like nothing could quell that irresistible charm and that infectious grin. But in reality it wears him down. Like waves on a cliff, wearing him away. I wish I could move closer. I wish I could hold him – keep him safe. But if wishes were fishes- well, let's just say I don't hold out much hope.

Sirius however, just seems to give out and slump backwards, bouncing slightly and making the bed squeak. I can hear the puff of air he uses to try and (unsuccessfully) blow the hair out of his face, so I reach out and brush it away, desperately stopping myself from smoothing away the wrinkles carved into his skin. God, my chest aches so much more right than it did earlier (like I said, re-occuring feature). Like it's being squeezed tighter and tighter until my eyes water and I can't get any air in.

"There's this person." Oh _hell_. Now I don't want to know. Every time he does this – _every time_ – I get this little flicker of hope, a match at the centre of the earth, that maybe this time – _this time_ – it'll be me. But there's no fuel at the centre of the Earth, and there's certainly no oxygen, so poof, out goes that match. Yet, even though he's just ripped my heart out and torn it into tiny, weeping pieces, I'll help him. Because I always do.

Sometimes I really hate my life.

"Go on then. Tell me."

He blinks and half sits up, resting on his elbow, staring at me. Surely I didn't sound that bad. I mean, I'm quite good at hiding what I'm feeling, I have to be. But now, Christ- it feels like hurricane Sirius (I wish) is locked in my stomach. I don't know whether to be sick or cry or to just _howl_ until I can't howl anymore.

Actually – I think I might scream.

**A/N:** Okay, so I'm still applying the ten reviews = new chappy rule, and since at least two of my regular viewers are sans internet (and in a foreign country where they don't speak the language) it really is ten reviews, rather than eight plus m'freundes.

Thanks to: Jaunty Maestro, CanadianCookie (again), Hatsuka (again), MountainMist (again), Guro (again), LGSnow (again), Missus Potter (again), Miss Heather (again), bookworm1805 (again), epholge (again), WWT (three times), 2Padfoot00Moony9, Sharlie25, Warriorbride and Chalcedony Rivers.

Also, special thanks to LGSnow, who pointed something out to me and had a little chat with me (even if I didn't totally get what he was pointing out, I'm sure that's just me :) ) and also to Missus Potter, who's PMing me and doing wonder for my morale, I have your message, I'm jus being slow - sorry! ..And I lost the first draft... heh.

Anyway, reviews are love, peace and chocolate, and reviewers get cookies!!


	5. This is the Catalyst

HELLO MY LOVELIES - DIDJA MISS ME??? I certainly missed you. I am, as you may have noticed, also in roaring good spirits for the first time inliterally _months_ at the minute. This is because I am shortly to going to the hospital to get steroids injected into my back which will clear up the monumental pain that has been keeping me off life for the last two months+. I am very, very happy.

It's also eight days till my birthday!! So I want to finish before then, and then I'll write myself a oneshot or something, because I'm lonely like that.

Uhm, yeah - new chapter! Basically, this is the fight. Not physically, and it doesn't really go on for that long (shortest chapter yet *hides*) but it's a bit dramatic. Next one is the last chappy! Ooh, I'm getting all nostalgic.

Anypoodles - enjoy!

[Oh, and there's quite a lot of swearing in this. And Remus blasphemes quite a lot - he's half-blood! One parent would have been Catholic! Artistic liscence yo. And I didn't proof read this.]

* * *

**This is the Catalyst: It Hurts So Much**

I'm not going to scream. At least, not yet. But, oh God, he's so _fucking_ close! Back, back, _back_ I go, to the end of the bed. Head board. Hang on to it. Fuck. My knuckles are white. Oh _God_. _Help me_.

"Rem? Remus? Remus – are you okay?"

"I don't know Sirius, do I look alright?" I feel a little hysterical. Every limb, every hair, every inch of skin is shaking, right down to my toes. Breathe. In, two three four. Out, two three four. Even my lungs are shuddering. _This is not happening_.

"Remus, seriously? What the fuck?" He reaches towards me and I flinch. God, just get away. _Please_. "_Remus!_" His voice is so loud, like whips. But I'm not worrying about _him_ for once, I don't care. _I don't care_. Because _I'm _hurting, fuck it!

"Don't touch me." It's strange, how your mind can be screaming, but your voice can barely whisper. Like there's something in your throat that stops all the emotion getting out. A filter. But Sirius jerks forward, as if tugged by invisible strings and I flinch again. "_Don't_ touch me. Don't. I don't want you to touch me. Just- Just back off."

God. So much. In my mind. Like our memories are dancing. Dancing in front of my eyes. Every smile. Every touch. And _fuck__ing hell_ it hurts. He is just so- so- Why can't he see? Why is he so blind? And so _fucking_beautiful. On the outside. On the inside. Not at all. I love him. I hate him. I need to get out.

"Where are you going?" He's so confused. It's in his voice. In his face. I hate him for it.

"Out. Away. From you. Far away."

"Merlin fuck, _why?_"

And then I screamed. I screamed so loudly, so brokenly, that it tore in my throat and cracked in the air.

"**_Because!_**_ **Because you're blind! And you're thick! And you never see! And right now I just hate you for that!**_" I'm crying now. I'm crying so hard. Tears – burning, burning tears – are running down my face in rivers, and each breath jumps and starts and I'm just _shaking_. And it's his fault.

"_What the **fuck**?_" Sirius stands up, legs akimbo and arms spread. His body says_ I didn't do it_ and that just makes me burn.

"Oh _yes_, of course – it's _my_ fault. It always _is_. _Why can't you stop being selfish?? _Just for once. Jesus." I shake my head, because the words have stopped, somewhere round my heart, and they won't come any higher. And I'm turning, turning away. Away from him. Towards the door. And I'm running. Running so fast. Faster than I ever have before. Running away.

So far away.

* * *

Well, my mother just killed my mood. Not her fault at all. But still. So the steroids I mentioned at the top? Earliest appointment is for the _twelth_. Which means not my birthday. Which basically means no school this term. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck.

Can people please review? It really cheers me up - and I'm still totally employing the fifteen-reviews-or-no-chappy rule.


	6. Author's Note again

So, um, hi.

First of all, I need to apologise for just leaving you all in the lurch. You all take the time to read and review and I just disappear. I'm so sorry, it was rude and unfair of me and I can only apologise again and again.

Second of all, I am actually going to finish this, I swear. I did actually think that it was going to be done by my birthday and I could move on and post other things and that would be that. Unfortunately, my life is complete shit right now.

I have mentioned before that I 'back problems' to put is mildly. It should have been sorted out by the 19th of December and I should have had my life. This is not the case. The steroids injected into my spine didn't kick and I am in serious amounts of pain again.

This thing is, when your back hurts (and your hip, and your thigh and your knee) eveyr sinlge movement hurts. There is no such thing as comfy. There is pain every minute of every hour of every day no matter where you are and it never stops. I cannot sit and therefore sturggle to type for long peroids of time - this, so far, has taken two sessions and you are going to have to pardon any typos as going back and fixing is just too much right now.

The worst thing is, I am alone. Always, constantly, alone. I have never been so lonely in my life and I honestly don't know how to cope. I've been feeling so utterly terrible for so long (physically and mentally) I just don't know what to do with myself anymore. All I can do is think and not even properly since there is either pain or painkillers blurring the world and it _hurts_. I'm so scared and so frustrated and so angry and I just can't do anything with it. I can't explain or vocalise it and everytime someone asks 'how are you?' I just want to scream and scream and scream.

My muse is dead. Just getting through every day and faking each smile and _pretending _all the time takes all my energy - I have nothing left, especially not for writing.

I'm lucky enough that a friend lives about five minutes away and she can get over to see me once a week, so in the resulting good mood I am getting something done, but it doesn't really last long, so I don't know how long.

Finally, I'm sorry once again and to everyone who's stuck with me, thank you from the bottom of my heart, you are amazing people and I will do my absolute best to get this done, I swear.

Also, to the people I know in real life, more specifically Hayley and Arika, since I told Sara most of this when sh was over last week (THANK YOU), I'm so sorry that I just stopped replying. Honestly, I just didn't (and don't) know what to say or talk about and I really don't want to talk about me or what I've been doing. I just want a bit of normality and I don't know how to find that or what to say anymore. You mean the world to me, you really do, I'm just so messed up in the head right now I've just been avoiding the world. I really will try and talk to you soon, I promise.

And to the people who reviewed and didn't get a reply: sorry. That's all I've got left and all I can say. I'm _so_ sorry and thank you so much for reviewing, it actually made me smile for once.


End file.
